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Authors: Anne Clinard Barnhill

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (18 page)

BOOK: At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn
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“My lady Shelton. You look quite lovely after such a hard ride,” said Arthur quietly.

“Do not speak pretty words to me, sir. Not after your little trick this day,” said Madge.

“Pretty words for a pretty lady—what is wrong with that? Is that not the way of the court?” said Arthur.

“I do not give a fig for such things as well you know. Why did you leave me in the hands of Norris? Do you now hate me?” said Madge in a sudden fury.

“Mistress, I could never hate you. You told me in the wood that you needed to find a superior person to marry. You are betrothed to Sir Henry Norris. I felt you should ride a ways with your lover, so all the court could see. And, after all, I’m merely Brandon’s bastard. I am too low for such as you, milady,” said Arthur in a whisper.

“I stung you with my words. What would you have me do? The queen has told me I cannot marry you—she has told me she will find me an appropriate match. Would you have me go against her wishes? Even if I loved you, I could not do such a thing,” said Madge.

“Then you do not love me. I shall withdraw from your presence, mistress, in that case. Though to be away from you will break me,” said Arthur.

“Do not withdraw, I beg of you. Just understand that I cannot accept you as husband,” said Madge.

“If you will not marry me, then will you give yourself to me, body and soul?” said Arthur.

Madge laughed at his forwardness. If such words had come from Norris, she would have slapped his face for them. But somehow, coming from Arthur, she welcomed them.

“Kind sir, though your offer of service is quite tempting, I must remain chaste until my marriage. I have told you this. Try to remember it,” said Madge as she touched his arm.

Just then, Norris approached them.

“Master Brandon, what are you doing in the king’s chambers? You are not a groom,” said Norris while he pulled Madge by the elbow away from Arthur.

“I am here at the queen’s command, Sir Norris,” said Arthur, giving him a short bow from the waist, but not lowering his head. Instead, he kept his eyes on Norris.

“Ah. Do you mind if I take Lady Margaret from you for a moment? The king is going to make a speech and I would she stand by my side for it,” said Norris.

“The Lady Margaret is yours, sir,” said Arthur.

Madge and Norris moved closer to the king’s bed where His Majesty stood, holding Elizabeth. He clinked his knife against his wineglass and all grew quiet.

“As you can see, the princess Elizabeth is healthy and beautiful—perfect in every way. I wish to announce that I have ordered a new cradle made for the bonny prince who is on his way to us. Cornelius Hayes, our renowned goldsmith, is to craft the cradle and it shall be of purest silver, inlaid with many precious stones and shall have the Tudor rose carved therein. A splendid cradle for a splendid prince!” roared the king. At that, he carried Elizabeth back to her mother and kissed the queen with great passion. Madge could not hear what the queen said to him, but her face was all smiles.

*   *   *

By the end of March, the Progress finally returned to Hampton Court where the queen and the Princess spent much time together. When he was not busy working on state business with Master Cromwell, the king joined them.

Cromwell had fashioned another, more strident Act of Succession for all the king’s subjects to sign. Actually, several acts were passed around the same time. These documents recognized Elizabeth as the only legitimate heir, should anything happen to His Majesty. They also made a law that any words spoken or written against the king’s new marriage would be considered treason. The confiscation of church property for the king’s coffers continued, under Cromwell, to go beyond reform of the monasteries to simple pillage. Those who refused to sign the papers were arrested and executed with marvelous speed.

Madge heard grizzly stories circulating around the court upon her return, and she noted how the atmosphere had changed. Before Cromwell’s new legislation, the court had been a place of pleasure; the king had enjoyed all the good things offered in the earthly realm. But now, fear and gossip filled the air. No one spoke their thoughts, for to do so might prove deadly. Before the latest laws, those who kept the old faith, such as Cate, did so in relative ease, judging they would be tolerated by His Most Gracious Majesty. But now, with Cromwell hunting them down with his network of spies and henchmen, the papists were forced to worship in utmost secrecy, fearing for their lives. Support for the dowager princess Catherine, which had once been widespread among certain courtiers, dissipated into the air. Lord Suffolk and Sir Nicholas Carew retired to their manor houses far from London, as their loyalty to Catherine remained unchanged, though they had signed all the papers they were asked to sign. Danger lingered in the air. The plague, a rainy season that sent much of the land into famine, hangings and burnings of holy men who refused to acknowledge Henry as head of the church, hangings and burnings of anyone who might be labeled “heretic”—these evils bedeviled the country. At the center, cursed for all that was raging around the country, was one name and one name only—Queen Anne, Henry’s “goggle-eyed whore.”

*   *   *

Madge began to have fears for the queen and for their family. Norfolk, the queen’s uncle, was becoming more and more aloof with Her Majesty, and Madge had heard the queen say harsh words to him. He was part of the old world—the old faith, the old order.

Lord Wiltshire, the queen’s father, as well as her brother George, were in France, trying to convince Francis I that one of his sons should become betrothed to the princess Elizabeth. Such a match was pleasing to the queen as she considered the French king her friend.

The new Spanish ambassador, Eustace Chapuys, refused to recognize the queen or any of her ladies and caused trouble at every opportunity. There was nothing he would not do or say to help the dowager princess.

Yet, through all the turmoil, the king kept his queen daily by his side, though he insisted she rest frequently and he took care not to let his difficulties reach her ears. For her, he was all smiles and pleasantries.

As for the queen, she had recalled Madge as mistress of the bedchamber and kept her close. During the long afternoons, they played cards, usually All Fours or Primero. Sometimes, they rolled the dice in such sport as Hazard or Quenes. Frequently, Her Majesty called for Master Smeaton to play for her while she rested. Often, she and Madge fell asleep on the queen’s bed, the cards and die scattered between them, Master Smeaton playing the virginals softly in the background. On just such an afternoon, the queen received more bad news.

“Madame, the lady Mary, your sister, would speak with you,” said Mistress Marshall herself. Madge was immediately on edge as Mistress Marshall rarely came into the queen’s bedchamber and only when there was trouble among the queen’s ladies.

“Admit our dear sister to us at once, Mistress Marshall,” said the queen, rising from her bed and sitting in one of the nearby chairs. Madge stood behind the queen, ready to be of service. She watched as Lady Mary Carey entered and curtsied deeply to the queen. She was not certain, but it seemed the lady Mary had a small belly.

The queen did not seem to notice but rose to greet her sister with a hug.

“Dearest sister, what brings you to my bedchamber on such a cloudy afternoon?” said the queen, motioning for Mary to sit down in the chair opposite her.

“I came to receive your good and generous blessing,” said Mary in a small voice.

“Then I bless you with all my heart, dear sister. How can I help you? Our father is sending adequate money and food for you and the children, I hope. The king himself instructed him to do so,” said the queen, smiling.

“Yes, Majesty. Father is faithful to send exactly the amount the king requires—no more, no less. Little Henry and Mary are growing nicely and have enough of everything,” said Mary.

“Good, good. How then, may I be of assistance to you?” said the queen.

At this, Lady Mary fell from the chair to her knees and held the queen’s hands in her own. Tears fell onto the queen’s lap.

“What is this, Mary? Why these tears? Nothing can be this bad, sister. Come, tell us your troubles,” said the queen, lifting Mary’s chin so she could look into her large blue eyes.

“Oh Anne, I have done something you will not like. I fear the king will be filled with anger when he hears it,” said Mary.

“Tell us, sister. What have you done?” said the queen, her brow beginning to wrinkle.

“I have married William Stafford, a Yeoman of the Guard,” said Mary and then burst into sobs.

Madge watched as Anne’s entire body stiffened. For a moment, the queen said nothing. Then she pushed Mary from her and stood.

“I cannot believe you to be such a stupid cow! For you to marry, without the king’s permission, to a … a … commoner when you are sister to the queen! What have you done, Mary! What have you done! Get out! Out of my sight!” screeched the queen. Before Mary could rise, the queen grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to the chamber door. She threw her out with a mighty shove.

“Am I to be ruined by my foolish sister? Oh, Margaret, what will the king say—he will be sorry he wed me, a mere English woman, when he could have married a princess from France. Oh, he will find me low and common now. What has she done!” The queen cried as she flung herself across her bed. Madge hurried to her side.

“Majesty, no one could take the dignity of your royal person from you. You are a consecrated queen and what your silly sister does is of no consequence. His Majesty may be angry, but this will not touch his love for you. Be of good cheer! You carry his son and when the prince is born, the king will forgive all, even such as Mary,” said Margaret as she stroked the queen’s back.

“Think you so, Margaret? Think you the king’s love can withstand so much?” said the queen.

“Madame, I can see how he looks at you—his eyes wet with love. He is yours and always shall be. There, there. Do not dismay. Let us refresh ourselves with some wine and cherry tarts. They are delicious, I am told,” said Madge.

The queen began to laugh.

“Oh Lady Margaret, if only all problems could be solved with wine and cherry tarts! You amuse me, child. I am glad you are with me in these frightful days,” said the queen.

Madge did a little dance for the queen’s pleasure as she prepared their repast.

 

Twenty

Madge hurried to Cate’s quarters to see if she and Shadow wanted to go for a long walk into Cheapside where Mary and William Stafford were living. She was on a mission from the queen herself. The day was sunny and the air was warmer now that the end of March was near. She knocked on the door and heard great shuffling from inside the chamber. Cate opened the door, struggling to hold onto Shadow’s collar.

“Maddie, come in, come in. It has been long since I have seen you, my girl. What of the queen?” said Cate.

“Her Majesty is well and getting fatter by the day. We think the bonny prince to come in early August. I have an errand to run and I hoped you and Shadow might accompany me,” said Madge.

“What sort of errand?” said Cate.

“I am to go to Cheapside to Braxton’s Inn to find the queen’s sister, the lady Mary and her new husband, William Stafford. I have news for them,” said Madge.

“I have heard the king rusticated them without a penny, with nothing but His Majesty’s mighty wrath,” said Cate as she wrapped her cloak around her and tethered Shadow.

“Master Cromwell took up their plight and went to the king on their behalf. He told the king that Lady Mary had said to him that her “heart overruled her head” in this matter. When he said that, His Majesty began to laugh, saying, ‘Of her, we would expect nothing else—she always was a silly wench.’ And then the queen asked if she could give them a manor house in Norfolk with a goodly income. The king cannot refuse her these days. With only one condition—they are never to come to court again and Mary’s son, Henry Carey, must stay here under the queen’s guardianship. He had previously been declared her ward, but the queen had allowed him to stay with his mother. Now, he is commanded to live at court,” said Madge.

“With his father,” whispered Cate.

“Speak not a word of that—yet, we know ’tis true,” said Madge. “Are you ready, Shadow? Will thou walk into the great city of London? Here is a bit of lamb I saved for you,” said Madge as she gave the dog the tidbit she had kept in her sleeve.

*   *   *

As Madge and Cate left the order of Hampton Court for the mean streets of London by the west gate, Cate lost control of Shadow, who pulled and pulled against her until the dog gained her freedom and ran at high speed into the city streets.

“What shall we do, Maddie? I’ll never catch the cur in these skirts,” said Cate.

“We must! She’ll be lost in no time—or worse, some poor man will make her his supper!” Madge said as she headed in the direction Shadow had taken. Before she had gone more than a few steps, however, a pleasing sight greeted her eye.

“Shadow! And Master Brandon! Oh, thank you for catching her—we feared she would be gone for good,” said Madge as she hurried to them. Arthur wore dark brown breeches and was in his linen shirt, his doublet folded across his arm. His hair was mussed and he panted almost as heavily as did Shadow. Madge knew capturing Shadow had been no easy task.

“At your service always, Mistress Margaret. And the lovely Cate is with you I see,” said Arthur. “Where, may I ask, are you ladies going this blustery afternoon?”

“We are on an errand for the Queen. We must find Braxton’s Inn in Cheapside,” said Madge.

“Then allow me to escort you. London can be a rough place for two fine ladies walking alone. Besides, I can keep Shadow on her tether,” said Arthur.

“We really don’t need…” said Madge.

“We would be delighted if you would accompany us, Master Brandon,” said Cate with a stern look toward Madge.

“Then let us be off,” said Arthur, smiling.

For the first time, Madge and Cate witnessed the daily hurly-burly of the city on foot. Stalls lined the streets with a variety of merchandise, the men and women calling out their goods. “Apples here! None rotten!” “Fish, caught this morning! Fish, fresh fish!” “Hot chestnuts! Hot roasted chestnuts!” “Cherry tarts and meat pies! Tarts and pies!”

BOOK: At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn
9.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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